


Our love has never been the gentle sort

by ravenbringslight



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Brother Feels, Come as Lube, Drinking & Talking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Men Crying, Porn with Feelings, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Scars, Sibling Incest, Valentine's Day Fic Exchange, and everyone ends up crying, asgardian prism power makeup clothing changes, i'm here, that thing I do, the culmination of ten centuries of codependency, thor and loki have a lot of feelings, where I start out wanting to write porn, Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-17 22:39:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13668777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenbringslight/pseuds/ravenbringslight
Summary: Thor throws that bottle stopper and then he and Loki hug and drink and cry and...you know how these things go.Loki is here, he’s here, he’s here. It’s all that Thor’s brain can latch onto. Everything else may be gone, but his brother is here. Not dead. Not fled. Warm and alive. Scarred and cracked but not broken. Half of Thor’s heart since a time before memory, half naked and in his lap and with all the same emotions on his face that Thor feels storming in his own chest.





	Our love has never been the gentle sort

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xxDustNight88](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxDustNight88/gifts).



> this is a fic for the thorki valentine's day fic exchange, hope you enjoy; the prompt I went with was "after ragnarok but before infinity war"
> 
> note: in the shooting script for ragnarok, instead of saying "I'm here," loki says "do we have to hug now?" I went with the second option for reasons that should become obvious as the fic progresses
> 
> second note: [now available in Russian!](https://ficbook.net/readfic/7068826)

Thor tosses the bottle stopper out of habit. It’s a desultory motion more than anything else, and as it arcs through the air he expects it to go sailing through Loki’s illusion. The thought that Loki might really be here in the flesh has not even crossed Thor’s mind. But his brother’s hand comes up, and the soft smack of the stopper hitting his palm is sweeter than any music that has ever been played in all the nine realms, and Thor can’t help the smile that comes to his face.

Loki is here. Really here.

“Do we have to hug now?” Loki asks. A smirk plays at the corner of his mouth. It’s a valiant attempt at the sarcasm that Loki is ever using to shield himself. Once, Thor might even have taken it at face value. But time and experience have been excellent teachers, and now Thor can see the vulnerability hiding in Loki’s eyes, the hopeful plea. _**Can** we hug now?_

Thor knows that no matter how much Loki wants a hug that if he waits for Loki to come to him he’ll be here until Ragnarok comes again, so he counts it a gift to Loki and takes the three steps across the room for the both of them.

Loki is stiff in his arms at first, all silent surprise and creaking leather, and truthfully Thor feels awkward about it as well. It has been long and long since they’ve shared any kind of open easy affection. Perhaps it’s too late. Perhaps their capacity for it has died along with everything else.

The thought is sobering and Thor feels a vast loneliness threaten to descend on him.

But then Loki lets out a tiny little noise that might be a scoff or a sigh (or a whimper? a laugh?) or simply a breath given sound by the tightness of Thor’s arms around his ribcage, and one of his hands slips around Thor’s waist and the other runs up the shorn hair at the nape of his neck to fist into his hair, and oh, there it is. They fit together just as neatly as they ever did. 

The smile that had fallen from Thor’s face finds its way back again.

A mere decade of betrayal and anger and deceit is easy to forget when for a millennium these two sets of arms have provided comfort to each other more than they have done anything else. 

And they are both in dire need of comfort tonight.

Thor squeezes a bit tighter and Loki squeezes back and there is desperation in both of their grips.

In this moment at least there is one thing right in the world.

“Come,” Loki says finally. “I feel the overwhelming need to get drunk on whatever that disgusting-looking liquor is.”

He doesn’t wait for Thor to respond. He heads for the sideboard, shedding his cloak as he goes, and changing his clothes in a wash of green and gold magic. Tight leathers are exchanged for soft black leggings and an emerald green tunic in the crossover style that Loki has always preferred; his feet are bare. The display is strangely intimate, and reminds Thor of the countless nights they used to spend back in their chambers in the palace doing this very same thing, drinking and laughing and recounting all the mischief they’d gotten up to.

The room they’re in now is chrome and synthetic fibers instead of stone and wood and it feels wrong, but his brother is finally here, which is the rightest thing in the world.

Loki knocks back a drink in one swift gulp, then watches impassively as Thor changes his own armor for linen breeches and a comfortable tunic of his own, sleeveless and the color of red wine. In a display of solidarity Thor leaves his own feet bare as well, and he sees Loki’s gaze flicker to his toes before he’s turning back around again to pour a drink for Thor too.

They drink in silence for long moments, Loki leaning against the sideboard and regarding Thor speculatively. It’s not comfortable, exactly. There has been so much unsaid between them for so long, and their opportunities for talking have been so limited, that now that they are finally in the same room together and no one is trying to kill or stab anybody, and there is no immediate danger that they have to face, and no foe except their own decades of miscommunication, neither of them know where to begin.

Instead, Thor looks at his brother. Really looks at him.

The years have not been a kindness to him. The fresh-faced second prince of Asgard with his immaculate grooming and impeccable fashion, the one who fell off the Bifrost those years ago, has been replaced by a man infinitely more careworn. There are lines in his face that had never existed before, and a hollowness behind his eyes. He moves differently. He has changed so much, and Thor despairs that Loki may never even tell him what happened.

Despite all that, to Thor no face is lovelier or more beloved, for it belongs to Loki, who after everything is still the dearest to his heart.

Loki is staring at him too, reading him like one of his books. Thor wonders what exactly is written in his own face. How much of the ocean of grief inside him has spilled out for others to see. Or maybe only for Loki to see; his brother always could read him better than anyone else.

Thor’s mind flits from thought to thought, a thousand questions ready to burst forth, but he can’t make his tongue latch onto any particular one of them.

The silence grows, and it grows. The heated connection of their eyes becomes too much to bear and they look anywhere but at each other.

Once Loki opens his mouth to talk, but then snaps it shut again.

Thor exhales noisily, but sucks it back in.

Finally they both begin speaking at precisely the same moment, and their words dissolve into huffing laughter.

“Can you believe what we’ve done?” Loki says. His eyes are a little bright, the tail end of his laugh a little high.

“Saved our people from extinction,” Thor says, echoing Heimdall’s own words to him as they stood on the bridge watching their home turn to space dust and memory. But the words are as little comfort now as they were then, and Thor grimaces as he knocks back his own drink. “Just hand me that whole bottle, would you?” he says.

Loki reaches for the bottle and Thor reaches for Loki. His hand closes around Loki’s upper arm and it’s so real and wonderfully solid. Not a phantom, not a memory. His brother, here in the flesh. Thor wants to keep hold of him this time; he’s afraid that if he has to let go again that he might never recover. His other hand finds its way to Loki’s neck of its own volition, cupping the back of it in that old familiar gesture, and Loki shudders.

“I missed you,” Thor says.

Loki closes his eyes.

“I’m still angry at you,” Thor says, and holds tighter to Loki as he tries to pull away. He is, but it pales in the face of all that has happened this day. “But I don’t care about that right now. I’m glad you came back.”

“I’m starting to wonder if that was a mistake now, actually.”

“I love you.”

“Oh shut up.”

Loki’s tone is irritable, but he doesn’t try to pull away again, and Thor pulls him into another hug. Loki returns it right away this time. It’s briefer, softer, less desperate, and when they step back from each other their eyes linger on each other’s faces. Thor doesn’t want to step back. He wants to plaster Loki to him for the foreseeable future and chase away the awful feeling of meaningless emptiness inside when he thinks about all that they’ve lost.

But denying himself for the greater good is something that Thor does very well at. So he takes the bottle that Loki is holding out to him now and he turns and makes his way over to the bed, sitting heavily on the side of it and taking a healthy chug. 

With the silence finally broken it’s easier to begin to fill it.

Haltingly, at first. Stumbling. Giving and receiving unintentional offense as they learn to navigate new paths around each other.

They are both changed, to be sure, but the new paths are not so very different from the old ones, and nor would Thor want them to be. He has always loved his brother, after all. It is just that now perhaps they have learned how to tread with a bit more care.

They end up talking and drinking for hours.

Not about anything that they need to say, really. There are so many things that are too terrible to discuss frankly and in the open light, and it’s not what either of them needs tonight. Tonight they need to ease their aching hearts.

“I saw you smile,” Thor says at some point, gesturing with his mostly-empty bottle. Somehow he’s ended up sitting on the floor with his back to the bed, legs wide in front of him. “When I told Banner about your little snake trick.”

Loki is sprawled on a chair and he smiles again at the memory; it’s the same smile, a fond crinkling of his nose that Thor has not seen in decades, and it takes years off his face.

“I didn’t even know you remembered it,” Loki says, laughing. The alcohol has loosened him and there is a red flush high on his cheeks. It suits him, the laughter and the blush both.

“Of course I remember getting stabbed!” Thor says indignantly. “Even if it was with that toothpick you used to call a knife.”

“Yes, but...I’ve just done it so many times…”

Their gazes lock and neither of them can keep a straight face.

“The squawk that you made was priceless,” Loki said. “If you could have seen the look on your face.” 

“It might have been as good as the look on yours that one time I swapped all your hair oil for saddle grease…”

It’s good, so good to laugh like this.

They get started on a kick of retelling antics from their misspent youth, one-upping each other until they’re practically rolling with laughter.

“Oh Thor,” Loki says, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, “I haven’t laughed like this in ages. Norns.”

The look on his face is suddenly a bit sad, as if the implication of that has hit him all at once. It saddens Thor as well and his own laughter dies out. The palace of their youth is gone now, and their innocence as well. Never again will Asgard’s halls ring with their joyous laughter, or indeed even their angry words or sullen silences.

Well, he did always have a propensity to get maudlin when he drinks.

“Hey,” Thor says, trying to rally. “Do you remember that one time we snuck into Mother’s sewing room and cut down her curtains and tried to make Valkyrie uniforms out of them?”

Loki smiles, a little tight and pinched. “And Sif made fun of us.”

“And you cut her hair off.”

“Mother was so angry.” Loki is quiet for a moment. “Do you think she’d be angry at us now?”

“No,” Thor says. “Never.”

“Not even at me?”

“No,” Thor says firmly.

Thor hears a sniffle, quickly suppressed, and the tiny sound pierces Thor’s heart.

“Oh come on,” Thor says, fighting the urge to sniffle himself, and his voice is thick. “I’m supposed to be the sentimental one.”

“They’re all gone,” Loki says dully. “Everything.”

Thor rolls his head to the side to look at Loki, except it’s the blind side and it does no good. He feels suddenly furious. Everything _is_ gone. His parents and his home and his friends and his hammer and his hair and his stupid bloody _eye_.

Snarling, he rips his eyepatch off and hurls it across the room so hard it embeds itself in the wall.

“I can’t even _see_ you,” Thor growls. “I turn my head to look at you and it’s blackness, and I still feel like if I could just...take that damn thing off I’d be able open my goddamn eye, but I _can’t_. Loki, I can’t even _see_ you --”

He’s babbling now, he knows it. Liquor and grief and exhaustion have combined into hysteria. He squeezes his eyes - his eye - shut and tries to breathe.

He hears a thump. Loki has dropped off the chair onto the floor and he’s crawling over to Thor now on hands and knees, unsteady, and Thor looks at him with a question in his face.

“You don’t need to see me,” Loki says. He’s crawling into Thor’s lap, and his legs are gripping Thor’s waist, and he brings his trembling hands up to Thor’s cheeks. Their mouths are a breath apart. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

Thor doesn’t know who leans in, maybe they both do, but their lips touch. Once, twice, feather light. And his hands come up to slide around Loki’s waist and pull him closer, and Loki buries his face in Thor’s neck and they cling to each other like they’ll die if they let go.

Maybe they will.

“Loki,” Thor chokes out. His hands are stroking Loki’s back, up and down. Still solid, still real. He finally asks the question that’s been eating at him from the inside out. “Why did you hide from me? Why did you let me think you were dead?”

Loki half laughs half chokes. “You ask me this now? Like this? Because I’m weak and I’m a fool, is that what you want to hear?”

“I--”

“I wanted your last memory of me to be a good one. That I died saving you. That you could look back on me in fondness.”

Thor opens his mouth again but Loki cuts him off.

“I’m not done. I am admitting things here, am I not?” Loki is quiet for a minute. One of his hands is resting on Thor’s chest, and he runs gentle fingers up past his collarbone to cup tenderly around his neck. The sensation sends violent chills down Thor’s spine. Never has Loki been so intimate. Never--

“I was hiding,” Loki says finally. “From...him.” There is genuine fear in his voice and it takes Thor’s drink-addled mind a moment to think of which ‘him’ Loki might be talking about. The creature that had captured him after he fell. Thanos. “He is relentless. There are precious few who would dare challenge the might of the Allfather, so as Father I was safe. But...my cover is blown now. My days are numbered.”

Loki pulls back far enough to look at Thor. His hair is mussed and the words spilling from his lips are terrible. His face looks haunted, open, vulnerable in ways that Loki has tried his whole life to hide from anyone. He has not looked so frightened or young since he was a child. Thor stares back helplessly. 

“Kiss me,” Loki whispers.

Thor does.

Perhaps it should be surprising that it’s all led to this, but Thor can feel nothing but an overwhelming need to pull Loki closer and closer as he brings their lips together. An overwhelming relief. Maybe this was what tore them apart to begin with - that they’d been too close for brothers, but not quite close enough to bring down this last wall. Maybe this will bring them back together.

Maybe it doesn’t even matter - it’s only this moment that counts, an eternity of them sinking into each other, perfect and suspended in time like a mayfly in amber.

Thor brings his hand up to Loki’s cheek and finds it wet with tears.

“Why now?” Thor rasps. He’s threaded his hand into Loki’s hair and pulled his head away. He needs to breathe. He needs--

“Why not? Now, at the end, what do I have to lose?” Loki’s eyes burn into his, and Loki gasps and shivers when Thor pulls his head to the side and kisses his neck. “If I am to die again, I’d like to feel alive for once first.”

“And this is how you choose to do that?”

“Yes.” The final consonant is drawn-out and sibilant, for Thor is kissing up to his ear and along his jaw. Loki’s hands flutter at Thor’s shoulders.

“How did you know I would kiss you back?”

“I didn’t. I hoped. I--mmf.”

Thor has captured his lips again. Loki’s breath hitches audibly and he throws himself desperately against Thor, scrabbling at him, pulling him closer, pushing himself in simultaneously.

Even if Thor had both his eyes he could not see the end of this. 

Will it end with them simply kissing here on the floor?

Will they touch each other, remapping their bodies with lustful hands instead of angry ones?

Will they taste each other’s skin?

Will they grind against each other with panting breath?

Will they enter each other in ways that brothers are not supposed to?

Will they spill for each other?

Will they do it all with declarations of love on their lips, or with guilt clogging the backs of their throats? Or both?

 

When it’s all over, will they do it again?

Loki is pushing their lips together hard enough to bruise against their teeth. He sucks Thor’s lower lip into his mouth and bites it, not quite drawing blood but near to it, and his hands fumble at the hem of Thor’s tunic as he tries to find his way underneath it. Thor can taste the alcohol on his tongue.

“Wait,” Thor says, catching Loki’s wrist in his hand. Loki’s pulse flickers erratically under his thumb. “Brother, what do you want from me tonight?”

Loki’s pupils are huge. His voice is low and dark and grating and it kindles a fire low in Thor’s belly.

“Everything.”

With a groan, Thor hauls Loki back in against him. He raises his arms over his head for Loki to pull his tunic off, then wrenches the ties holding Loki’s shirt together and pushes it open so that it hangs loose from his shoulders. Loki’s bare belly tenses and flinches under Thor’s hands. Thor has never touched his brother this way before.

Their cocks are hard and trapped between them. He has never touched his brother this way before either.

He wonders if he’s ever even thought of Loki this way, then scoffs at himself.

Of course he has. Maybe not consciously, but it’s always been there. That tension. That yearning. That ache for closeness and that aggression when it had nowhere else to go.

How long?

Always.

Loki is running his hands up Thor’s chest and Thor pushes the fabric off Loki’s shoulders so that his shirt falls to the floor in a puddle of green. He feels his heart snag.

“Loki.”

His hands only shake a little bit as he traces the great jagged scar in the center of his brother’s chest. Remembers the blade plunging through it, Loki’s face turning to ash, the storm of his white hot grief. He swallows it back down as he always does, for how else has he survived these long lonely years?, and instead he says, “When I realized you were alive, I thought you must have faked this.”

Loki smiles, if the way his face tightens can be called that, and puts his hand to his own chest, covering the memory.

“No. I meant to die both times.”

The enormity of it bowls Thor over. He can feel tears start to slide down his own face.

“Shhh,” Loki says, wiping at Thor’s cheeks, kissing them, kissing his forehead, his eye, Hela’s scar, and Thor weeps and clutches his brother to him. “It’s not like that anymore. I won’t do it again.” He kisses Thor’s mouth, murmurs against it. “I’ve grown rather fond of living.”

Thor can’t stop his tears and Loki starts crying again too.

“Thor,” he says, voice cracking. “Don’t. I can’t bear it. Please. Let’s forget everything for one night. Just be here, now, with me. Please.”

Loki is still straddling Thor’s lap here on the ground, and Thor wraps both arms around him and hugs his face to Loki’s chest, scar to scar, and lets his tears run dry while Loki strokes his hair and his shoulders and his back.

“Are there any two in the world like us?” Thor asks.

Loki’s laughter is laced with tears. “I should hope not.”

Thor looks up at him and Loki dips his head down and they drink more kisses from each other’s sighing mouths. They are ancient and young at the same time, and hopelessly sad, and completely irreversibly entangled in one another.

“I’ll not let you die again,” Thor swears while Loki bites his earlobe. “I’ll kill the whole universe first. Thanos--”

“Shh, don’t say his name here. No more talking.”

Thor’s head is spinning. With drink for a certainty, but also with Loki. Loki is here, he’s here, he’s here. It’s all that Thor’s brain can latch onto. Everything else may be gone, but his brother is here. Not dead. Not fled. Warm and alive. Scarred and cracked but not broken. Half of Thor’s heart since a time before memory, half naked and in his lap and with all the same emotions on his face that Thor feels storming in his own chest.

The erection that had flagged with Thor’s tears stirs to life again as Loki moves against him, and with a growl Thor tightens his arms around Loki and grinds up into him.

Loki gasps and pants hot breath into Thor’s ear. “Take me.”

Thor thinks that if he tries to stand he’ll probably fall, so instead he bears Loki down to the ground onto his back. He is unprepared for this. There are no supplies, no previous experience to fall back on, only raw need and a lifetime of love.

Loki is arching up into him, wrapping his legs around Thor’s waist.

“I’ll hurt you,” Thor grates out.

“I want you to.”

Thor stares at him helplessly.

“It’s never stopped you before,” Loki adds. The words are cutting but Loki’s eyes and voice are soft. “Our love has never been the gentle sort.”

Thor can make no objection because it’s true.

Loki draws him back in and Thor kisses him gently, tenderly, trying to show that it need not be that way, even though his body is aching to do as Loki asked.

Loki wrenches his mouth away. “I’ll stab you if that will make it easier. Fucking _fuck_ me. I want to feel you for days.”

Thor groans at the thought, at Loki walking around with a constant aching reminder of Thor’s need for him, and Norns help him but he wants it too.

He sucks a bruise onto Loki’s collarbone as he struggles with Loki’s leggings, finally wrestling them down off his hips for Loki to kick off. Loki is trying to do the same for him and failing, and with an impatient huff he simply vanishes Thor’s breeches with his magic.

Loki paints his hand in spit and reaches down to coat Thor’s cock the best he can. Thor adds his own, and then Loki is grabbing him by the hips, fingertips digging hard enough to bruise, and yanks him forward until he’s pressed against the tender opening between Loki’s thighs.

Their eyes lock and they both exhale trembling breaths.

Thor pushes.

Loki cries out.

Thor would have stopped, but Loki has wrapped his legs around Thor’s waist again and hooked his ankles together and he’s urging Thor in, pulling, pulling, and Thor goes, not wanting to deny his brother anything right now.

But it hurts. The drag is painful even for Thor. It’s not right.

“Wait,” he says.

“Thor, I swear to everything you hold dear--”

“ _Wait_.”

Thor reaches down and takes Loki’s leaking cock in his hand and smears the fluid around, fisting up over the head. He is still seated inside Loki’s enveloping heat, and he can feel Loki clench around him as he strokes. It’s absurd when he thinks about it, that he’s here on a ship floating in the middle of space, hours after blowing up his own planet, with his cock buried inside his brother.

“ _Ahhh_ ,” Loki breathes, chest heaving. Thor flexes minutely into him and Loki writhes, pushing back into him and up into Thor’s fist. “I’m going to--”

“I know. Do it.”

Loki comes almost gently, his face screwing up and a soft sigh escaping his lips as he spills over Thor’s hand and his own belly. Thor can’t help but lean in and kiss him as he works him through it, his own cock throbbing with repressed need as Loki flutters around it.

“Beautiful,” Thor murmurs against his lips. “Always so beautiful.”

“Shut up,” Loki gasps, but his cheeks are pink again and he presses a long kiss to Thor’s mouth.

Thor gathers all the spend he can, pulls out a bit and smears it all over everything, himself and Loki, and shoves back in.

It’s nowhere near as slick as oil would be, but for this, here, tonight, it’s perfect.

The drag is just this side of pleasurable, a delicious burn, an almost-terrible yet exquisite friction that they will both feel later. Loki clutches at Thor’s shoulders and lets his head fall back and Thor pounds in, knocking a grunt out of himself with each thrust.

He’ll fuck Loki through the floor, fuck him until their bodies give out, fuck him until they finally become one instead of two.

Fuck him until nothing else is left in the world.

Because, really, that’s already the truth.

Thor’s grunts mingle with Loki’s cries as he drives in and in. There is nothing gentle left in him and he’s brutal and he’s unrelenting. Loki’s body takes him hungrily. His strangled moans urge Thor on, begging for more, faster, harder, anything, everything. Thor feels the lightning gathering under his skin. The power is so new and the scant control he had over it is slipping as he loses himself in fucking his brother. He can feel it crackling and tingling, sparking along their combined bodies.

Strands of Loki’s hair are standing on end and his cries change pitch.

“ _Thor_ ,” he’s saying, over and over again and “ _yes_ ” and “ _fuck_ ” and his nails are gouging Thor’s back.

With a wail, Loki spills again, shaking and grasping and arching. Thor follows him with a roar and a crack of thunder, and everything in the room rattles as he drives into Loki and claims him, his body wracked with wave after wave of pleasure, filling Loki up, spilling over and down his thighs and into the cleft of his ass, and Loki is his - they are each other’s - and Thor hangs floating for a moment in a timeless bubble of perfect bliss.

They collapse, exhausted.

There have been too many emotions for one day. There aren’t room for any more, or for any more words. No need for them, either. Their bodies have spoken for them.

Loki vanishes the semen and sweat from their bodies with a tired wave of his hand, then Thor hauls them the three feet up and over into the bed.

They fall asleep nearly instantly, side by side with their legs tangled together and Loki’s hand resting on top of Thor’s and their faces tilted toward each other.

When Thor finally wakes, groggy and mouth tasting like a sewer, he opens his eye and has the momentary annoyance that the other is still stuck closed with sleep. Then he remembers. Then he remembers the rest of it. He looks over to the other side of the bed.

Loki is breathing quietly next to him.

Thor is suddenly terrified that this is another of Loki’s illusions. That he’s actually left hours ago. Thor almost can’t even bear to reach out and touch him, for fear that his hand will pass through nothing - if he doesn’t touch, he’ll never be disappointed.

But preserving an illusion in favor of finding out the reality has never been Thor’s province, no matter how lovely the illusion may be.

He holds his breath and reaches out to run the back of his hand down Loki’s cheek.

“You’re still here,” he says, relief blooming hot in his chest.

Loki is looking at him through partially cracked eyelashes.

“I am.”

“Will you stay?”

They look at each other for a long moment. Loki touches Thor’s lip with one finger.

“I could be convinced.”

Thor smiles.

*

Thor spends his nights after that trying to be as convincing as possible.

*

Every morning, Thor wakes up and touches his brother’s cheek and asks him that same question.

Every morning, Loki gives him that same answer.

It’s precarious and uncertain, but for now it’s enough. There are no promises to be broken, and actions speak louder than any words.

Loki is here.

**Author's Note:**

> come visit me at [raven-brings-light.tumblr.com](https://raven-brings-light.tumblr.com)


End file.
